


Our Flowered Children

by TonyPie17



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Flower Babies, Flower Language, Fluff, Garden Babies, Gardens, Gen, Hobbit Culture, M/M, More tags to be added as time goes on, hobbit magic, more characters too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:43:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4321818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyPie17/pseuds/TonyPie17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A multi-chaptered series about Bilbo and Thorin's 'flowered' children. All the odds and outs of becoming parents, as well as raising hobbit-dwarf children inside of a mountain that's not exactly made for hobbit-dwarf children. There are even a Dwarfling or two in here that are made in a strange way as well. Will include other pairings and children created from these pairings as well.</p><p>Chapter 1; Gloxinia<br/>Chapter 2; Gloxinia 2<br/>Chapter 3; Barren</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gloxinia

**Author's Note:**

> Ta da! This is the new series that I was talking about (though it's not really a series, since I've decided to make this one a multi-chaptered fic...)
> 
> So I'm way way way into the stories about Bilbo growing his children in a garden or being grown in a garden himself and I was like "I love that idea so much" so I said to myself, "PiePie, you should TOTALLY write about Thorin and Bilbo growing their kids in a garden!" And then this was spawned. I'm using flowers different here, though.

Thorin was… for lack of better word, he was completely perplexed. He didn’t understand why his beautiful, wonderful, Consort husband had asked him to begin gardening like he did. And it wasn’t as if he’d asked Thorin to tend to various plants around the greenhouse, no. Bilbo had specifically asked Thorin to help him watch over a very, _very_ specific patch of dirt, which had beautiful deep blue flowers with white brims coming from it.

“This is the first patch… Very special, this one, very, _very_ , special,” Bilbo had said in lieu of an actual explanation. Thorin had thought it weird, but he hadn’t questioned it.

Maybe it was a Hobbit tradition? Thorin was still getting the hang of most Hobbit customs; he had promised Bilbo that their marriage would be equally Hobbit as it was Dwarven. And if one of those traditions meant gardening together then Thorin would garden with Bilbo.

Though, it was still odd. Bilbo hadn’t mentioned anything about gardening in the beginning, and the entire ordeal had only come about after Bilbo had asked Thorin if he wanted to have children.

“Of course,” Thorin had replied, “They would be the fruit of our union, and I would love them as I love you, just as fiercely and as passionately.”

Bilbo had beamed at the response, and kissed Thorin gently. Of course the gentle kiss had turned steadily more passionate, until the two had ended up in bed in a very convincing “let’s make children” position. The topic hadn’t come again afterward, but two days later Bilbo stood in front of Thorin in the Greenhouse, wringing his hands a bit and occasionally throwing worried looks at his husband as he gazed down at the patch.

“It’s―” Bilbo had stopped to take a breath. “It’s very important that we tend this cluster together. It was hard deciding which one would be best to use―my parents had chosen cinquefoil and honestly I think we should as well for the next one―but I think the gloxinia is a fine choice for the first one.”

Thorin had gone along with the ramblings of his husband, not fully understanding what he could possibly mean, but deciding that whatever Bilbo meant couldn’t possibly be bad. Bilbo honestly wanted him to help with tending to the beautiful patch, so whenever Bilbo asked if they could possibly do a bit of grooming on it Thorin tried to ensure that he could.

(Plus, it got him out of boring council meetings whenever Bilbo asked him for help with tending the plant. Not that Thorin would _want_ to skip out on said council meetings, of course not.)

“This patch is not like the rest, is it?” Thorin asked one fine afternoon, when he and Bilbo were gently pruning the gloxinia flowers one by one. The leaves were a little unruly, but Bilbo was adamant on them not doing too much snipping.

“Hm?” Bilbo looked around at the other patches of flowers. Some were beginning to wilt; to die and decompose and make way for the next years flowers. Their gloxinia did not. It was just as vibrant as ever, which was a good sign to Bilbo.

“Well, it’s not begun dying like the rest,” Thorin pointed out.

“Of course not,” Bilbo wrinkled his nose a bit. “These are _special_.”

Thorin wanted to ask why, but he did not want to upset his husband in case it was something he should have already known. There _were_ times when Bilbo told him things and he forgot he’d been told, and as such had been forced to sleep in his old quarters instead of their smial (he tried not to make that mistake again; his bed was large and cold without a cuddly Hobbit at his side).

Bilbo hadn’t said much more after that, but Thorin continued to help take care of their flowers. Even through the winter months, when the mountain was cold, he and Bilbo did extra checks to ensure that the gloxinia were alright. Bilbo was rather anxious as well; he would wake in the middle of the night just to check on the flowers. They had been caring for them for close to eleven months now, since the early part of last spring, and it was nearing the end of winter now.

The closer it grew to the one year anniversary of them taking care of the gloxinia plant, the more restless Bilbo grew. Thorin was growing rather concerned for his Hobbit; Bilbo hardly left the patch alone, afraid for something or other, and he’d mumbled to himself quite a bit in the last month.

“Should have seen something by now,” he would say to himself when he thought Thorin wouldn’t hear him. “I hope he’s alright.”

Thorin was sure Bilbo couldn’t have meant the _gloxinia_ of all things. After all, they were just flowers! If anything, Thorin thought Bilbo should have been concerned that they had hardly made any change since they’d first begun. The only differences had been that the petals had fallen off one by one, and Bilbo had collected each and every one and put them in a jar. Thorin had been confused by this, but he had once again attributed it to Hobbit traditions.

Something finally happened (though _what_ Thorin hadn’t been sure of until he’d seen it himself) after the one year mark of Thorin and Bilbo’s tending to the clusters. The sun had been cresting over the horizon and Bilbo (who had taken to spending some nights in the greenhouse) had rushed in while Thorin was getting dressed for the day to pull him into the greenhouse and to their plants.

“It’s starting!” Bilbo had tittered excitedly.

“Bilbo―love―what’s starting?” Thorin had asked. He was supposed to be getting ready to start a long day of kingly duties, and though he wasn’t averse to a bit of early morning gardening, he really needed to finish getting―

“What in Durin’s name is that?”

Was it―it was―could it be― _yes_ , it was―it was a hand. Sticking up from the dirt. Where the gloxinia had once dominated the tiny patch, they were now finally wilted and dying, and the hand in the dirt wiggled it’s little fingers, just as another hand broke free and Thorin spotted a little head of dark hair (it could just be the dirt making it that dark) trying to come up.

“Bilbo, what’s happening? That child needs help!” Thorin tried to step forward to help the babe (because it just _had_ to be a babe stuck in the dirt) when Bilbo grabbed his arm.

“He won’t grow up strong if we help him,” he stated, as if it were obvious.

“But―Bilbo!” Thorin looked from his husband to the patch, and he was so very concerned for the babe when the child finally managed to get more of his head free (and Thorin saw that the child did indeed have dark hair).

The process was agonizing for Thorin to watch, because all he wanted to do was simply _help_ the child but Bilbo threatened to send him back inside if he tried anything. The little one struggled to get out of the patch in the ground for an entire two hours (managing to get most of himself out with only his legs left in the dirt) before Bilbo finally stepped over to pull the tiny babe the rest of the way, since it was simply a matter of his little legs being stuck afterwards.

Thorin followed after his husband and the child back into the smial and into their bathroom, where Bilbo began to gently bathe the tiny babe. A damp cloth over the child’s eyes allowed for the tiny thing to blink his eyes open, revealing vibrant and crystalline blue. Thorin had only seen the colour in one other place.

“He has your eyes,” Bilbo chuckled, patting the babe’s back when he coughed up a bit of fluid and dirt.

“Bilbo,” Thorin sat finally to really take in the child’s features. Bilbo had gently washed the boy’s hair and cleaned him of any dirt and even plant roots.

“Look at him, Thorin,” Bilbo said reverently, “He has your hair, and your eyes. Even the Durin nose!” Bilbo laughed again, shaking his head. “But―ah―he’s got my round cheeks, and certainly my feet.”

At this the two of them looked down at the small child’s feet, which had tiny tufts of hair growing on the tops of them.

“The others will be thrilled to see our son.” The statement was what broke Thorin from his stupor.

“Bilbo, please, explain to me how this is possible,” he requested. He had never thought that he and Bilbo would ever have a child of their own as it simply was not possible biologically. But Bilbo had done something that only Hobbits could do, and he had produced a child that looked perfectly as if he was born from the both of them.

“Ah, I had forgotten that this was not how others did things,” Bilbo hummed. He stood, wrapping the small being in a towel to keep him warm, and then headed for the bedroom. He had bought simple clothes for their child back in the early months, though without Thorin’s knowing.

“Hobbits do things just as any other race in regards to children,” Bilbo began explaining as he dressed the tiny babe. “But sometimes, when there are those who cannot bear child themselves, they take to their gardens, and tend to a chosen patch. The fruit of their tending, as a result of love for each other, is their child.”

Bilbo smiled gently down at the tiny babe, who had fallen asleep during Bilbo’s explanation while being dressed.

“So there are those whose children are grown in a garden?” Thorin asked to ensure that he’d heard right.

“Indeed. I myself was a garden child. It’s why I’ve no siblings,” Bilbo sighed. "All of my parents' other attempts had failed..."

Thorin, not wanting his husband to be down, leaned over and pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s temple.

“You are very special then, just like our little one,” he stated. Thorin looked down at their sleeping son, and yes, alright, he really liked being able to say that the child before him was _his_ son. His and Bilbo’s.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about what was happening sooner. After you said you _wanted_ a child I was simply too excited to start to really tell you anything,” Bilbo apologized.

“It is fine, my Bilbo, truly. This is absolutely wonderful.” Thorin stroked a finger down a tiny round cheek, and their child cooed softly at the feeling.

“What shall we name him?” Thorin questioned now. He was not aptly prepared to name a child, since he had not known they would be having one. Bilbo, however, seemed completely prepared.

“Frodo. His name shall be Frodo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, as a bit of background, here, a couple who can't conceive (or is a homosexual couple) will go to their garden and figure out which patch of plants they want to use to grow a child. The patch has to mean something to the couple, and they have to really care for it for a _whole year_. If they were good to the patch, then a few days after the anniversary of planting it, there should be a child coming up. If they were not, then the plant will die (very, very, tragic).
> 
> Bilbo was so excited about things that he forgot to mention it to Thorin after Thorin said that he did want kids. Bilbo chose Gloxinia because he felt like he'd loved Thorin at first sight without realizing, and knew that the moment their child popped up they would love him at first sight, too.
> 
> Also, Hobbits know whether or not the child will be a boy or girl by how or when the petals of the flowers start falling off. More on that later.
> 
> I think that's all for this universe. Anymore questions I'd definitely be willing to answer, unless I plan to answer the questions later on in a separate chapter.
> 
> Lastly, I can't wait to start writing more of my favourite pairings~!


	2. Gloxinia 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Gloxinia, when Frodo flowers.
> 
> The Company meets little Frodo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels like it's been fooooreeeeveeeeerrrrrrr

“How are we going to tell the others?” Thorin asked that very same night.

He sat with Frodo in his lap, the small child’s hands touching every part of his father he could reach. He was most interested in Thorin’s beard, and kept reaching his little fingers up to run through it. Every time he came across a bead he tugged and tried to get it free, only to have Thorin chuckle and moving his hand somewhere else.

Bilbo was moving through the kitchen, preparing dinner for that night. The only reason the entire company hadn’t come to lunch was because Thorin had requested that they be left alone for a bit. He hadn’t left their smial once, since Frodo was as curious as any small child should be, and had nearly burned himself in the sitting room in only his fifth hour of living.

“Oh dear,” Bilbo stopped moving and looked back at Frodo and Thorin (who now had his son trying to climb all over him). “Everyone will not react as positively to our son’s flowering as you did. I imagine someone will faint.”

“I am imagine you aren’t wrong,” Thorin grinned.

[][][][][]

Bilbo wasn’t wrong. At all.

When the others started trickling in for dinner, Frodo stayed firmly hidden in his father’s furs. He made it immediately known that he was uncomfortable with all the people the moment the door opened and he saw a Dwarf that wasn’t his father.

The first few Dwarves to come in for dinner were, of course, Fili and Kili, who took an immediate interest in the squirming beneath Thorin’s coat.

“What’ve you got hidden there?” Kili asked, reaching a hand over to poke at the bundle. His hand was immediately slapped away.

“Nothing of your concern just yet,” Thorin replied. Fili and Kili looked at each other, even more interested now.

“Is it an animal? We didn’t know you were partial to _pets_ , Uncle,” Fili walked around the dining room, setting places at the table as was his and Kili’s jobs.

“He kept Uncle Bilbo, didn’t he?” Kili snickered.

“I heard that, Kili!” Bilbo shouted from the kitchen. Kili ducked to the other side of the table, further away from the kitchen doorway, knowing that he was in for a visit from Bilbo’s cooking spoon if he wasn’t careful. He was lucky his Ma was away on business in the Iron Hills, otherwise she would have cuffed him herself.

“He is not a pet, Kili,” Thorin scolded, though whether he was talking about Bilbo or the thing hiding beneath his furs neither brother knew just yet.

They weren’t to find out until after most of the company had come in and settling down for dinner. The table was piled with foods (because no matter how old they got, the members of the Company could still put food away like it was nothing) and Thorin sat at the head, Bilbo to his left. He was still hiding whatever it was beneath his heavy coat, but occasionally he looked down to speak.

The others thought this odd, and a few even voiced their concerns.

“Thorin,” Dwalin called from further down the table, “Is there something you want to share with the rest of us?”

Thorin hummed, looking down at the still squirming mass beneath his coat and then to Bilbo, who gave a small smile and nodded. Then he looked back to their friends.

“Yes, there is, actually.” He opened up his coat enough for the tiny head of his son to pop out and look out over the table, eliciting shouts of surprise from most members of the company. Immediately, questions flew about the room.

“Where did that child come from?!”

“ _Whose_ child is he?!”

“Thorin! You can’t go around stealing children!”

“We thought it was a pet!”

All of the commotion and shouting made poor Frodo start to tear up immediately, and Bilbo reached over quickly to take his son into his arms. The Dwarrow closest to him (which just so happened to be Dori) took one good look at Frodo and promptly fainted. Thorin looked to his husband and smiled knowingly.

“Well. You most certainly weren’t wrong.”

[][][][][]

“Frodo’s birth was by special circumstances,” Bilbo explained after dinner, when everyone had somewhat calmed down and Dori had woken up. “He is―hmm?”

Bilbo looked down at the small babe, who was cradled in Bilbo’s arms and looking more than a tiny bit curious now that a few proper introductions had been made. Frodo wiggled and squirmed until he’d been sat on his feet. The boy wobbled for a moment before he took a few hesitant steps towards the nearest Dwarf―Gloin. He patted one of Gloin’s knees and then held his arms out to be lifted.

“He wants me to hold him!” Gloin bellowed, surprised, just before he swiftly scooped Frodo into his arms. Immediately, Frodo began to tug at the beads and braids in Gloin’s beard.

“He’s rather fond of beards, Gloin, as a warning,” Thorin chuckled, watching as Frodo dug his tiny fingers further into Gloin’s beard. The tiny child looked up at Gloin just then, and finally laughed.

“Is it a matter of male Hobbits being able to―?” Balin didn’t finish his question, because Bilbo’s alarmed expression told him all he needed to know.

“Oh, no, no, no. Nothing of that sort!” Bilbo quickly said. He cleared his throat. “No, typically Hobbits conceive like Dwarves or Men. But sometimes…”

Bilbo looked to Thorin, trusting that he could explain in a manner that would help the others understand.

“Sometimes a couple isn’t able to conceive normally,” Thorin picked up, though surprised that Bilbo wanted him to continue. “And so they pretty much grow their children in their garden, from a specific patch of flowers.”

Thorin looked to Bilbo to ensure that he was correct, and Bilbo nodded, smiling. Though those weren’t the words he would have used exactly, it was still slightly better than what Bilbo could have said, since understanding seemed to blossom on most of the faces around them.

“So the young lad was simply grown!” Oin near shouted. Said lad jumped in Gloin’s lap, and then went to bury his face into Gloin’s beard to get away from the loud noise.

“You can just _grow_ Hobbits? Can we grow our own Hobbit?” Kili inquired excitedly. Bilbo could practically see the gears turning in Kili’s mind, and he quickly went to stop them.

“No, it’s not that simple,” he said immediately.

“But you just said yourself that a child could be grown,” Nori pointed out. “Surely it could not be hard.”

The dark look Bilbo sent Nori’s way had the thief clearing his throat immediately and turning his head away, not wanting that gaze upon him.

“Do you all remember last spring, and summer, and fall?” Bilbo asked now. “When Thorin and I spent much of our time in the Garden, tending one patch together?”

“Aye, how could we forget? There were plenty of times we came to see one or both of you and you were hovering over some flower or other,” Bofur nodded. “Was that Frodo?”

The toymaker blinked when blue eyes peered over at him at the sound of the name. Frodo tugged his hands free of Gloin’s beard and climbed down from Gloin’s lap, though he hit the floor with a solid ‘thump’ onto his behind. Tears sprung up into the boy’s eyes immediately. His first real cry of the day started in his throat, and Thorin scooped Frodo up into his arms to shush his son.

“Aye, it was. Or, it was the patch he would grow from,” Bilbo confirmed. “It takes a full year for a child to grow big enough to be able to flower on his own, and then a couple of days for him to be strong enough to get out of the ground. Frodo managed to get out all on his own this morning.”

The small child had quieted to little hiccups in Thorin’s arms, and before any of them knew it, he was sleeping soundly.

“So some Hobbits are grown from the ground… Extraordinary,” Ori was scribbling away in his journal furiously, writing down this new information on Hobbits for the Archives. “Do you think… It would be possible for Dwarrow to do something similar?”

Bilbo was about to say yes, possibly, when it suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t actually know. He frowned and looked over at Thorin and Frodo.

“Well… I’m not entirely sure, to be honest.” He placed his hands on his waist. “It was a bit of a gamble, having Thorin help me in something typically only done between two Hobbits, but Frodo came out just fine as a perfect balance between us so far.” The Hobbit shrugged. “It’s possible it could work, but only time would really be able to tell.”

This bit of information left Ori thinking, his mind going through many possibilities, as well as lingering on the Dwarf he wanted to try with. A few of the others were taking in the information and thinking the same thing.

“That’s enough questions for tonight I think,” Thorin decided, as he noticed that some of the others (particularly Fili and Kili) looked ready to ask more questions that didn’t warrant immediate answers (and he knew that because he knew his nephews).

Everyone wished the little family of three good night, and began to leave. Only Bofur and Nori lingered behind once everyone else was gone. Bilbo shoo’d Thorin off to the bedroom with Frodo, deciding that he could at least answer the questions of his favourite thief and toymaker.

“I already know what you’re thinking,” he chuckled.

“Do you, now?” Nori smirked, arms crossed.

“I’m sure he does,” Bofur grinned, “Considering he can read you like a book.”

“And I can’t read you, Bofur? I saw right through you, as well.” Bilbo smiled. His face slowly morphed into one of seriousness, however.

“I can’t say that it’ll work. But if both of you can convince them to help you with a patch, I can help you pick out flowers, and we can see if it works out,” the Hobbit sighed. “I hope it does, though. For both of you.”

The two Dwarrows were silent for a moment, before Nori spoke up. “I trust you, Bilbo.” He looked at Bofur.

“Aye―aye, I trust you as well,” Bofur nodded, though both Hobbit and Dwarf could tell he wasn’t too optimistic about the possible outcome.

Bilbo resolutely decided that, no matter what, he would help his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I'm writing this I'm thinking to myself; Shouldn't I be working on Children of Mine??!!?! So hopefully Children of Mine's next chapter will be up by the end of the week. No promises.
> 
> Okay so, who do you all think Bofur and Nori want to have children with? (Here's a hint, it's not each other. And another hint, this _is_ a continuation of Rose of Every Colour)
> 
> Does Ori want to have a child with someone as well? Who knooowwss~


	3. Barren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori contemplates, Fili wonders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN I GOT INSPIRATION FOR THIS AHHHH
> 
> Like I just started writing the beginning and I just _didn't stop_. It was literally the greatest feeling ever, especially when it was done.

“Have ya ever―considered children, Master Dwalin?” Nori inquired as he sat on the edge of the sparring ring, watching Dwalin best _another_ of the whelps that thought themselves so high and mighty. Many of them had been coming through as of late, which meant Nori couldn’t spar with the larger Dwarf as often anymore.  _Unfortunately._

“Not particularly. We’ve got our hands full with young Frodo as is,” Dwalin snorted.

Ah, yes. Young Prince Frodo, the son of the kingdom’s King and Consort. A young boy who had appeared, seemingly, from nowhere one day. Bilbo’s explanation to the kingdom as to how a legitimate heir could be produced was exactly what he’d told the Company; in Hobbit culture, a couple tended a patch for a year and then a child sprouted up.

It was… not easy for the Dwarrows of the Mountain to believe. Many had assumed Frodo was a little spy, sent by some order or another in the attempt to overthrow the king and his consort, and had taken on the form of a Hobbit in the attempt to gain the hero Consort’s favour. Bilbo had been immediately annoyed to hear those rumors, which circulated easily within the day.

By the time dinner rolled around, there were enough convoluted stories going around the mountain, Bilbo had to literally go and gather many of the Dwarrows and Dams from their homes to prove that Frodo was nothing else but a small child. He had placed his son onto the ground (Thorin had fussed immediately, claiming that their son was too small and fragile to be on the ground so soon, Bilbo had slapped his hands the moment Thorin reached to pick his son up again), gathered the many Dwarrow around, and allowed Frodo to acquaint himself with many of the Dams, who took an immediate like to him.

“Do you all _see_?” Bilbo had hissed when Frodo had reached his little arms up to be held. The Dam before him picked the tiny babe up and held him in her arms, laughing when little Frodo immediately went to her beautifully braided beard to touch and tug at the shiny beads. “He’s simply a child!”

“Aye,” the Dam nodded, gently touching Frodo’s soft cheek. Frodo turned his head and reached to grab her finger, squeezing it and then shouting with glee. “He’s but a little one.”

“How could a child so small, barely fits in the palm of your hands, be as evil as you all claim, hmm?” Bilbo demanded to know. None in the crowd had an answer, so Bilbo knew his point was made. He managed to extract his son from the Dam’s arms and bid them all farewell, as it was much too late past Frodo’s bed time. Thorin offered but a single smile, and followed behind his husband and son.

Nori had sat with Fili and Kili watching the entire spectacle, and had been thoroughly amused by the entire thing. Honestly, Dwarrows confused him just as much as Hobbits did at time. Children were sacred, Dwarrow preached that all the time. But they were skeptical of a little one, barely several weeks old? Honestly.

“―if it works, I’d consider it,” Nori heard Dwalin saying. He had completely zoned out, and now he looked up, smirking and humming in question.

“What was tha’?”

“Fool thief, if you’d listen you’d know,” Dwalin gruffed, “I said, if a Dwarrow couple attempts it and it works, I would consider it.”

Nori frowned a bit. “What if no one else makes the attempt?”

Dwalin merely chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t be so sure… Some things even _you_ can’t see, ‘Spymaster’.”

As he said this, Dwalin twisted and turned to walk away, over to a group of young Dwarrows that were _supposed_ to be Guards-in-training, but were doing much better at making complete asses of themselves, shouting about if they had time to try to impress the young Dams then they could also run laps until Dwalin saw fit for them to stop.

Nori watched the Captain of the King’s Guard leave him, and decided to go do a bit of thinking. He went to the one place where he knew he wouldn’t be bothered.

As the Spymaster left the sparring grounds, a certain Dwarrow watched with unhindered emotion in his eyes, before turning back to the recruits.

[][][][][]

Bilbo was hardly expecting Nori when he appeared. Frodo was fast asleep, hanging in the sling across his shoulders while Bilbo worked in the garden. But he was so used to it after so many years that he hardly jumped at all.

“Hello, Master Thief,” the Hobbit smiled. His expression shifted the moment he noticed the pensive look on Nori’s face. Understanding dawned on his features and he stood.

“I’ll go put Frodo in bed. Lad tuckered himself out helping me over in the Daisies. I may get started on dinner as well,” he decided. Nori smiled thankfully and watched the Hobbit head into his smial to to put the youngest member of the royal family into bed.

Nori walked over to his rose bush and began tending to it; pruning the leaves and watering the patch. It was completely his responsibility. Like all the others that tended their own roses, he did this entirely alone, without a single hand to help him. These roses had been Bilbo’s gift to him; he refused to let any of their friends try to tend them.

But he wanted another patch, a different patch, that he could tend with a certain someone who was constantly on his mind. During the days of the quest, Nori hadn’t had any time to think about the Dwarrow he wanted so desperately to court; there was too much danger and the adrenaline kept his mind clear of anything but _surviveprotectdefend_. Nothing could cloud his judgement, and when he was ordered by his King to fight, he did so without hesitation, without knowing whether or not he would lose his life, without any inhibitions.

Now he had all the time in the world, and he could think of other things besides surviving, things such as matters of the heart. And, oh, matters of the heart were what he thought about these days! He thought himself not a proper thief, because he couldn’t even steal the heart of the one he wanted so desperately to be with. Was he a incompetent?

Nori looked around, at all the flowers and foliage that covered the greenhouse from the ground to the very clear glass ceiling. A few trees had even taken root, and were finally beginning to grow. The future heirs of Erebor would be blessed to have the greenhouse built by the King who reclaimed their home for the Hobbit that claimed the said King’s heart.

Nori wished he could have heirs of his own. But his love was one that could not produce the fruit of his loins; he loved another male, and such love could not bear children. Unless a pair of Dwarrow proved that it could be done with Dwarves instead of Hobbits, Nori would not ever be able to know himself. That wasn’t even including the fact that the one he loved didn’t even love him back.

The sounds of heavy boots coming towards the door to the greenhouse made Nori snap from his reverie, and he looked up. The door burst open and in came Fili and Kili, the two young Princes giddy with excitement. The two were so caught up in their conversation, they didn’t even notice Nori.

“He’s left you _more_ flowers!” Kili tittered excitedly, “He must know that you’re adoring them!”

“Yes, but I’ve still no clue who it even _is_ , Kili. How am I to thank him and reply if he won’t even _show_ himself to me?” Fili sighed. He held in his hands a bouquet of camellias, lavender, and some other flower (Nori was getting the hang of distinguishing them, ala lessons from Bilbo; they were trading sort of, Bilbo becoming a better thief and Nori becoming a better botanist). He knew not the meaning of lavender, but he remembered the camellias as being adoration.

“ _I_ say he’s a coward, braiding your hair with a bead of intent but not showing himself,” Kili huffed now. He changed the topic just as quickly; “Let’s go see if Frodo is awake!”

Fili, who had wilted just a bit at the mention of the bead (and lifted his hand to clasp at a braid that hung from his left temple), perked up at the mention of his small cousin, looking excited. Nori saw this as his moment to intervene.

“Ya had better not,” he called, standing from his rose bush, “Bilbo’s just put the lad down for his nap. Ya wake him now and Bilbo’ll have yer hands.”

“Aw, but we’ve been waiting _all day_ to see him!” Kili whined, “I even promised Ori I’d bring Frodo to see him in the libraries!”

“You should have made no such promises,” the voice of the Hobbit scolded as the door to the smial opened.

“Bilbo!” Fili and Kili both grinned, Kili hurrying over to titter excitedly at his Uncle about this or that thing.

Nori inched over to Fili, who still stood a small ways back. “Someone’s left the Crown Prince flowers?”

Fili glanced at Nori out of the corner of his eye, and turned his face to angle it so that Nori couldn’t see the slight dusting of pink along his cheeks.

“It’s alright, _your majesty_ ,” Nori snickered, elbowing Fili a bit. Fili groaned and decided to get away from the teasing by hurrying to Bilbo and Kili. Nori followed, not minding one bit that Fili was trying to escape him.

“...And Fili’s gotten _more_ flowers!” Kili finished saying finally.

“Don’t announce it to everyone!” Fili hissed.

“Uncle’s gonna have a _fit_ when he finds out!” Kili’s excitement paused as he realized this, and suddenly he looked pensive. “We can’t let uncle see these. He’ll know immediately that someone is _still_ trying to court you and he’ll post _more_ guards around your room.”

Bilbo bristled at that. “Thorin’s been posting _guards_ outside of your room?”

Fili nodded sheepishly, looking down at the flowers and letting out a long sigh. It wasn’t even _his_ fault he had an admirer that felt so strongly about him. And with the declarations being left for him, it was hard not to admire the way the other Dwarrow wanted to be with him.

“I’ll have to have a talk with that _insufferable_ Dwarf,” Bilbo murmured to himself. He looked between the three taller Dwarrow standing around him, and his eyes landed on Nori again. With a smile, he beckoned all of them to follow him into the Smial.

“Why don’t you two help me in the kitchen. There are still a few cookies and tarts left from this morning; you can help yourselves so long as you promise to help _me_ with dinner,” the Hobbit offered. Fili and Kili agreed immediately. Just before Fili could go running off into the kitchen, Bilbo asked if he could have one of the purplish flowers from his bouquet. Fili had many in the vase back in his bedroom, so he nodded, allowing Bilbo to take one of them. Nori raised an eyebrow as Bilbo sent Fili on, the purplish flower in his hand now.

“This,” he began, in a hushed tone, “is Althea. I think it suits the two of you perfectly.”

Nori frowned, and then gently plucked the flower from Bilbo’s hands. He examined it, glanced over it really, in the light coming in from the open door of the greenhouse. When he got a better look at it, he noticed that toward the middle the light purple turned into a deep violet and it was almost as if the inner violet was reaching out towards the edges. Nori rather liked it.

“What does it mean?” he asked. Bilbo shook his head.

“I can’t tell you. You know how you feel, and he knows how he feels. It’ll come to you if he agrees and the child takes,” the King’s Consort explained. “But only if he agrees. I’ve been thinking about it and I believe that that may be the basis for why this―” he gestured from the garden toward the hallway and Nori knew Bilbo meant Frodo, “―works. I can’t be entirely sure yet.”

Nori thought about that. He still didn’t know if it would work, not since he wasn’t even sure if his (prospective; it had still yet to be confirmed) One returned his affections. But the hope in Bilbo’s eyes, the hope that this could work, it made Nori want to try.

Now all he had to do was ask.

[][][][][]

Young Frodo began to cry when dinner was just about finished. Kili, the only one unoccupied at the time, offered to go and get the little one. Bilbo agreed only because he still had work to do (and he needed to start trusting his nephew to not drop his son or anything of the sort. Frodo was still half-Dwarf, so he _should_ be fine if dropped one or two times), so he shoo’d Kili off to grab the baby. The young Prince was all too excited to go and get his nephew.

Kili, on his way through, ran right into Ori and Oin, who were coming in from the front entrance of the smial. Ori smiled when he spotted Kili, and Oin patted him on the back.

“What happened earlier, Kili? I thought you and Frodo would be coming to see me,” the Scribe inquired. Kili managed to look sheepish when that was mentioned.

“Sorry, Frodo had just gone down for his nap, so Bilbo wouldn’t let me wake him,” he explained. Ori hummed his understanding.

“Is that the lad now?” Oin asked (Well. Shouted), referring to the cries.

“Yes, Bilbo’s tasked me with calming him and bringing him to the table for dinner.” Kili’s eyes strayed back to Ori. “Would you like to accompany me? I know he prefers you to me.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Ori nodded. “Though that’s a bit of a toss up; I think he only likes me because I give him candies when he shouldn’t have them.”

Kili practically beamed. “I do as well!”

_“Kili! What is taking you so long!”_

Oin howled in laughter, and patted Kili’s shoulder. “You two had better go then, before Bilbo has yer heads!”

The crying got even louder and another bellow of “ _KILI!_ ” had the two scurrying off towards the bedrooms to get young Frodo. Oin continued laughing as he went towards the kitchen, possibly to pilfer a few pieces of meat before dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I'm not subtle or discreet or anything, which means I wanna know if you guys have figured out who's meant for who just yet. Anyone paying attention to their context clues would know~


End file.
